Double Deceit by Emily Hendrickson

Author:Emily Hendrickson [Hendrickson, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Regency Romance
Publisher: Belgrave House
Published: 1990-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

Adrian was not to be seen the following morning. Indeed, the entire day was to pass without his crossing the threshold to the house on South Street.

While Lady Winnington was inclined to call upon Lord Rutledge for his undoubtedly expert assistance, Caroline attempted to dissuade her.

“Only think, dear aunt. Would you not feel foolish if Adrian is up to some silly start and Rutledge is given a disgust of us for sending him on a fool’s errand?”

Her aunt studied Caroline with shrewd eyes. Since there were no coins to polish this morning—no winnings having been taken in last evening—the two sat in the morning room. Aunt Fanny had a cup of tea at her elbow while she perused her mail. Caroline restlessly paced about the small room, pausing from time to time to stare out the window in the direction of Thornhill House.

“He might have stopped here to inquire, however,” Caroline muttered after some time. “Merely to set your mind at ease, ma’am.”

“Naturally. We cannot lay claim to his attentions, dear girl. Rutledge is a very busy man. Do you have any idea of the extent of his properties? Here in London alone, he has sizable amount of land.”

Just then Simpkins appeared in the doorway looking as shaken as one ever might think to see that unflappable gentleman. He bowed, then said, “There is a shockingly irate person to see you, my lady. Something to do with Mr. Adrian, I believe. Shall I tell him you are not at home?”

Clearly Simpkins had a low opinion of whoever was calling, for he referred to him as a person, not a gentleman. The distinction was vast.

Exchanging a surprised glance with her niece. Lady Winnington rose from her comfortable chair to walk to the door. “Come with me, Caroline. I suspect we are about to discover what it is that has been keeping your brother so frightfully busy these days.”

In the center of the entry stood a bull-necked man with red cheeks, pale blue eyes, and possessing a stout form that bespoke hearty meals with ample ale. “Ye must do something wi’ tha’ good-fer-nothing jackanapes! Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am. Th’ young gen’leman is set to dig up Tower ‘ill! Ye canna’ allow ‘im ta do it.” He raised a threatening fist, then dropped it when he recalled it was Quality he addressed. “Th’ Runners ‘ill be called, for sartin, ma’am!”

“My, my,” said a coolly distant Lady Winnington. She attempted to question the man a bit more, eliciting little of value other than apparently Adrian was convinced there were Roman ruins of an early wall or some such thing beginning at the Tower and running beneath the city.

The man was politely thanked for his message and warning, for goodness knew what might happen to Adrian if he succeeded with his plan and the Runners carted him off to Bow Street!

Once the door was closed behind the message bearer. Lady Winnington hurried back to her morning room, crossing directly to her small writing desk.

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